[Zhongyingmei] That snake

"If you want to leave by yourself, I will open the exit for you. If you don't want to or can't live alone, please wait a little longer, and the British police will come to support you." Oliver took a few steps forward and spoke to the whole world with the loudest voice. the lab yelled.

In the cage next to him, there was a mutant with red eyes hitting the iron bars that imprisoned him. His skin was gray and uneven, similar to stone, but the wound on the back of his head flowed out human blood.Their hearts are also made of flesh and blood.

He has strong hostility towards Oliver, but what can Oliver do?You can neither hit nor scold, and it is difficult to have stronger emotions except guilt.

Oliver rested his palms on the bars, able to touch the mutant's warm stony forehead, and tried to use his powers to sort out his riotous nervous system.

"Calm down, buddy." Oliver smiled wryly, "You're safe, someone will take you out."

The mutant was controlled to calm down, and fell to the side in a dazed state.

"Does anyone want to leave by themselves?" No one answered.

Oliver sighed, carefully inspected the laboratory with his abilities, made sure that no researcher had retained his self-awareness, then turned and left the laboratory.

"Take me to the exit," he said to Lawrence, who followed him.

Lawrence nodded dully, and raised a finger to point Oliver in the direction.It is a very painful posture to keep raising your arms for a long time. Lawrence's hands are already trembling, but his face has not changed. The nervous system automatically ignores the warnings issued by the body under high pressure, and only strictly execute The command.

The exit was an elevator, and Lawrence stopped, finally letting go.

"Are there any other exits?"

Lawrence nodded.

"Open them all."

After receiving the order, Lawrence took out the controller from his pocket, pressed a few buttons, and the door of the elevator in front of him also opened in response.

The interior of the elevator car is very spacious, enough to fit a two-person cage.

Before Oliver finally left, he glanced back at the empty silver-white corridor, lowering his head so that the emotion in his eyes could not be seen clearly.The ability tentacles crazily fermented, swelled, and grew until they covered the entire underground laboratory and delivered the final blow. All the Hydra-related personnel in the laboratory lost consciousness at this moment.

Oliver grabbed Lawrence by the collar and threw him into the elevator. Lawrence entered the last code, and the elevator doors closed slowly to cut off the indifferent air.

Oliver bent his knees and pressed Lawrence's stomach with all his strength.

Lawrence was in pain, his expression contorted instantly, and his nervous system began to scramble to work.His sense of autonomy gradually recovered, and there was hatred in his eyes.

But Oliver didn't wait until he fully regained consciousness. He grabbed Lawrence by the front collar and threw him against the wall of the elevator car.There was a thud, and Lawrence slid to the floor against the wall, but he was still alive, his fingers trembling to fight back.

Oliver picked him up again and smashed his head against the wall.This action has been repeated countless times, and Oliver has done all this almost expressionlessly, except for the red eyes and bloody lips that can prove his ups and downs. He will never understand why people like Lawrence live in this world.

For a moment, he even wanted to believe in God and the gods. Only in this way, even the death of a sinful person cannot free him, and the fire of hell will always be with him.

Until the walls of the box and Lawrence's hair were soaked with blood, Lawrence couldn't hold it anymore, rolled his eyes and passed out.

He wasn't dead yet, Oliver wiped his hair backwards, and his breath became a little heavier. As for the sequelae of severe concussion, it was out of his consideration.

The sticky blood gathered the strands of hair together and scattered them backwards, exposing his smooth and broad forehead, like the most perfect sculpture in the hands of an artist in the classical period, but mixed with the weird aesthetics of death that did not belong to that era , if there was such a trace of haze in those clear blue-green eyes, it has disappeared under the light now.

The elevator goes up quickly, and Hydra's craftsmanship minimizes the feeling of overweight, but the journey is already long.

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The BAU team and Sherlock returned to the factory, and Lestrade followed them, bringing with them twice as many SWAT officers.

"If you have carefully checked the internal structure of the factory, why can't you find the entrance?" Sherlock snorted coldly, very disdainful, "That's still an elevator, no, definitely more than one. The scale of the underground laboratory should exceed the ground The production factory on the ground also contains a large number of guards."

"There are at least four elevators."

"Their laboratory must carry heavy experimental instruments, and the area occupied by this elevator will not be small." Morgan crossed his arms and walked in while analyzing.

"Great load-bearing capacity," Sherlock went on. "Must be built in the load-bearing part of the building. You forgot to check the inside of the walls, Lestrade."

"It's almost impossible to completely cover the stitching gap. There must be something in front of the elevator." Hotch continued.

Sherlock looked up at the tall dome. There were glass windows for daylighting on both sides of the ridge, but unfortunately it was dark now, with no stars, no moon, no light. "The elevator is at the corner wall, and..."

"I'm sorry, but, did you hear any sound? It seems to be an electrical alarm." Prentiss' words made everyone fall into silence.

"Did they still have a second hand?" Morgan frowned.

"No, it's not supposed to be the first time, he doesn't have a countdown sound," Prentiss said.

"Guys, stop arguing," Lestrade said, coming over just in time, "the SWAT team found an elevator door, it's over there, follow me."

When the group of people reached the elevator door, the SWAT team members had already set up their weapons and assumed an attacking posture. The captain who was standing aside stopped them and told them not to get too close.

"This bookcase suddenly moved away automatically, and my team members discovered that this is an elevator." He explained.

The numbers on the elevator buttons were jumping, gradually approaching the ground floor.

"We pushed the button, but it requires a code. And there's an elevator going up. I want to wait for the enemy, sir," he asked Lestrade.

Lestrade nodded nervously, "Do as you want."

The red Arabic numerals change rapidly, and every beat turns people's hearts into dials, and the pointer is regularly beating the heart that beats disorderly.

The elevator door opened slowly, and the not-too-dazzling white light of the incandescent lamp came out bit by bit in a trapezoidal shape from the gap.

The SWAT team members raised their guns, and they could hear the sound of leather gloves rubbing against steel. In the cold winter months, beads of sweat appeared on the bare skin of the team members.

A human voice seemed abrupt at this time, especially when it came from inside the elevator.

"Put down your guns, gentlemen, and be civil."

This was followed by the muffled sound of guns landing.

Oliver raised his hands in surrender, and Lawrence, who had been grabbed by his collar, fell to the side, unconscious.

The unruly smile at the corner of his mouth and the broken hair on both sides fell from the top of his head again, and the blood stains on it complemented each other perfectly, like a prodigal son in the world.It seemed that the SWAT team members opposite him were overly nervous.

"Oliver!" Hotch yelled first, "You can put the gun down."

The SWAT team turned their heads, but did not obey the American's instructions until Lestrade waved his hand to them, confirming that the people in front of him were friendly troops.

Oliver grabbed Lawrence by the collar and dragged him outside on the concrete floor. Lawrence's face was covered in blood and dust.

"How's the situation below?" Hotch hurried over, Oliver saw that he wanted to hold his hand, but because there were too many people around, he let it go again in mid-air.

"Not very good," Oliver tilted his head. "The members of Hydra have been, uh...you know...not threatening, but there are still many experimental subjects that need to be rescued."

He looked at Lestrade, "Mr. Detective, I suggest you hand over the aftermath of this base to other special departments. Scotland Yard may not be very good at this kind of work."

"No problem." Lestrade agreed.

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The sounds of police cars and ambulances were mixed together, and the red and blue lights were intertwined and flickering. Some of the rescued mutants were seriously injured. Oliver gave up the few ambulances to these poor children. There was no need for paramedics either, just that the little constables at Scotland Yard insisted on giving him a blanket.

Oh, well, he needs a blanket, there is a temperature control system in the Hydra base, but not outside, and he is only wearing an unlined shirt now.

The handover is all up to Scotland Yard. Hotch and the BAU team are participating in the investigation of the case as invited experts, and these matters have nothing to do with them.

No one noticed that Hotch walked up to Oliver and sat with him on the corner steps, watching the busy police officers.

"Are you okay?" he whispered to himself, "Looks okay."

Oliver was amused, and he leaned closer to Hotch, sharing half of the blanket on his shoulders, and the warm area became wider.

"What can I do, it's you," Oliver brushed Hotch's chin with his fingers, erasing the nail marks left by him before, "Sorry, I know I was thinking too much at the time."

Hotch grabbed his hand unexpectedly, "If you knew you were acting aggressively, you shouldn't be bringing it up now."

Oliver couldn't get his hand out, and Hotch had to use a lot of strength, so he put his other hand on the back of Hotch's hand, and put the intertwined hands on his stomach.

"You're angry?"

"What do you think?" Hotch looked at him in a businesslike manner that made Oliver hang his head and play with his fingers.

Hotch didn't wait for his reply, and continued, "Oliver, you know what? When the elevator door opened and I saw the pool of blood on the ground, I thought it was yours."

"But no, I'm not that stupid."

"Stupid? No, you're too smart. You always use methods that kill one thousand enemies and hurt yourself eight hundred, and these methods have damned, damned, f*cked worked, more than once."

Oliver shrank his shoulders, and the strength and volume in Hotch's hand increased, his fingers were already white.

But his tone suddenly calmed down, "I'm worried about you, and I'm afraid. You should trust me and the team members instead of putting yourself in danger forever."

"Aaron." Oliver hung his head, and Hotch could only see his bushy eyebrows and eyelashes blocking his eyes, "I've always trusted you as much as you trusted me, but I still have to. Some things, Hydra Yep, Dr. Octopus, how dangerous they are, alas... I always knew how dangerous they were, from the beginning, you can understand it as an instinct, especially for normal people. I am afraid too , I worry about you too."

He looked up at Hotch, and put Hotch's hand on his chest, "I have always trusted you, and this trust is based on knowing what you can and can't do. These things Of course you can do it too, but what price will you have to pay? It’s better for me, they can’t hurt me, can’t they?”

"But you've been hurt."

"And I can easily repair the damage."

"You don't have to do that." Even though Hotch said it anyway, Oliver looked into his eyes and knew that Hotch finally agreed with him.

What else? Hotch couldn't convince Oliver, nor was he willing to control his mind.

"Okay, my wonderful boyfriend." Oliver broke the dull atmosphere with a smile, wrapped his arms around Hotch's neck, let Hotch's head rest on his shoulder, and Hotch put his arms around his waist.

Oliver rubbed the back of his neck, patted his back lightly, and comforted, "I promise you, I will be fine. But, I also want you to promise me."

"I promise." Hotch's voice was nasal.

Everyone is still busy, no one will pay attention to this dimly lit corner, and no one will notice that the two FBI agents exchanged a kiss quietly.